Watching Over You
by jesusfreakauthorgirl17
Summary: Caya's journey of watching her best friend compete in the Hunger Games. This is as if Books Two and Three in the Hunger Games Series does not exist. Contains religious views, please respect.
1. Chapter 1: Strange Joy

**AN: Please note that this holds a lot of my own religious views. I am writing the way I want to write, not the way the world does.**

**Thank you!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games. That honor goes to Suzanne Collins. I also do not own the bible. All verses used in this piece are God's alone.**

Chapter One: Strange Joy

Imagination is a funny thing. You imagine heaps of horrible or wonderful things and then watch as something more horrible or more wonderful happens.

In my case it was more horrible.

The funny thing is, that morning wasn't so bad. I actually had a reason to sleep in and wear something nice. My family isn't terribly rich. In fact, we're rather poor. We live in District 12 in a place called the Seam. I wouldn't call our house a house, it's more like a cabin or a hut. I have to share a room with my brother Vick, so I don't get to decorate it the way I would like. Not that I'd have any money for decorations in the first place...

I woke up after a long drowsy sleep with no interruption. Despite the fact that it was Reaping Day, I felt peaceful and refreshed. It was my last year of experiencing the awful fear for my life; I was 18. The 77th Hunger Games would get me or not and then that would be the end of it.

I headed to the kitchen, only opening the door wide enough for me to squeeze through so as not to wake Vick. My little brother is 12 this year. Yes, we have a big age difference. My parents wanted two children, but they struggled with having children close together. When I was three and a half, my mom had a miscarriage. I didn't understand when Mom was pregnant then never had a baby. It bothered me for years until I finally asked her after Vick was born why the other baby wasn't here.

I opened our cabinet and sighed. We didn't have much. The was a few pieces of stale bread, the scrapes of our rations and a bit of meat from Dad's hunt two nights ago.

I scraped together what we had and put it out on the table. I resisted the urge to eat without my family and walked over to the window, staring out at the bleak world outside. Usually people are hurrying about to work or someplace else. But like my family, they're all asleep out there.

My peace gave way to nervousness as I thought of what the day might bring. I could be reaped. The thought made me shudder. There's no way I would ever win. I'm not brutal. My parent's take good care of me and Vick and our lives have always been happy- mostly. I don't like that we're required to watch kids kill each other every year. I would always be hovering over Vick, ready to cover his eyes if there was something too brutal or horrific, which there often is.

Bad images began to enter my mind. Visions of things that had happened in past years. Tributes getting stabbed to death, or burned to death or worse. I shut my mind off of those thoughts and went to wake up Vick. Usually I would just push him off the bed, but it was his first reaping. I couldn't help remembering my own first reaping.

I'd signed in and slowly headed where the 12 year old girls were. No one was there that I knew. I'd felt smaller than a speck of dirt. They'd pulled the names in the girl bowl and it was some 16 year old that I didn't know. I could remember the immense sense of relief flowing through me just as clearly as though it was happening.

Of course I didn't feel this way today. Not yet. I gently nudged Vick until he made a groaning, "Uuuhhh."

"Time to get out of bed sleepyhead," I told him.

"Why?" he moaned. "There's no school."

"It's reaping day," I tried to say gently.

Well, that woke him up. He bolted upright and looked at me in fear. "R-r-r-reaping day?" he stammered.

"Yes bud." That's short for buddy, don't ya know? "Cool down. In God we trust, right?" I reminded him.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah." He paused, as if hesitating. "Caya, have you ever noticed how few people go to our church?"

"Yeah."

"Well don't you think it's weird?" he asked when I said nothing else.

"Oh, Vick. You know most people think there is no God because they wonder how could He let the Hunger Game happen."

"But He's a source of hope."

"Go wake Mom and Dad up. It's time for breakfast," I said briskly, not wanting to answer his question. I'd wondered the same thing many times. Not many people believed in Jesus around here. In fact, our "church" was an old office building that was so run down the walls disintegrate if you touch them. I'm not trying to convert you by the way. Whatever. But it matters to me, and comes up a lot in this story. So if you don't care for religion, stop right where you are.

I went back to the kitchen and sat in my usual set which faces the bedrooms, ready to welcome my family.

I couldn't believe it was Vick's first reaping. I couldn't convince myself that he wouldn't get picked. And if he did, I didn't know what I would do. As I stood there, I had a sense that there was someone else I would hate to be reaped.

There's my best friend Hazel Rivera of course. She and I have known each other since she moved here from the merchant section of District Twelve. Her father's shoe shop failed about two years ago and they couldn't afford to keep their house. The Everdeen family let them stay in their old home, since they live in the Victor's Village now.

"'Morning Caya," said Dad gruffly as he came into the room.

"'Morning Dad," I responded, my thoughts fading as I came back to reality. "Take a seat for the most wonderful feast you could imagine!"

Dad chuckled. "Thanks sweetie." He took his seat just as Mom came into the room.

"Aww," she cooed, "that was so sweet Caya!"

I smiled, a little embarrassed. Vick followed Mom and by his expression, I could tell he was angry at me for not answering him in the bedroom. I sat down with my family and prayed, "Dear God, please be with us at the reaping. Thank you for this food. Amen."

My family nodded in agreement and we all dug in. We were going to need the energy for the trying day ahead of us.

"I call dressing first Vick," I told him as I headed into our small room. Opening the closet, I gazed at the only pretty dress I had, worn only for Reapings, Christmas and Easter. Not that anyone celebrated Christmas and Easter that much. But it was special to our family. I put the cream colored rose splattered dress on over my head and turned around and around in front of an imaginary mirror, since we didn't have a real one.

Dizzy, I stopped spinning and collapsed on the bed, chuckling in spite of myself, in spite of the world. It was as if no one could get hurt today, as if no pain could touch me. Peace filled me as I thought comfortingly, After all, God is with me.

I sat up and grabbed my silver hairpin from my nightstand drawer- if you could call it a nightstand- and brushed it into my hair, the golden locks framing my shoulders. I stood and twirled last time, smiling at my reflection. My gray eyes smile back.

Vick knocked loudly. "I have no idea why you're laughing, but I need to get dressed!" he called.

I grabbed my shoes and socks and rushed out of the room. "Sorry Vick, I was daydreaming," I told him.

"About what? Getting reaped?" My brother's fear gave a harsh edge to his voice as he said the words.

"No! Of course not!" I protested in disgust.

"Whatever," he replied, going into the room.

My mood lasted until we had to go. As we walked, the peace flickered inside me, sometimes there as strong as in the bedroom, and sometimes as quenched as it was as I pictured past games.

The feeling of forgetfulness came back again as well. Who on earth was I forgetting? I wracked my brain, but uneasy and random thoughts distracted my search.

I glanced over at my brother. Vick was dressed in the classic white dress shirt, black dress pants with nice shoes, and a tie that was striped blue and red. His usually messed up blonde hair was combed back water preventing his cow licks to show.

We walked as a family towards the town square. It took a good 20, 30 minutes, but wasn't too bad. Except that everyone was silent, even when we joined our neighbors and friends on the way. It was as if there was an agreement that nobody decided but everyone followed anyway, because it felt right.

When we arrived at the square, it was time to part with Mom and Dad. Mom was tearing up as she gave me a hug and whispered, "May God be with you."

Dad also gave me a hug, saying, "It'll be okay."

Vick grabbed my hand and we went towards the check in. My hand almost turned blue, but it was okay. I understood. It was his first time ever coming to sign in. In years past he'd been worried about me, but had never had to about himself. I squeezed back, and he looked up at me, his green eyes shining with love, fear, and gratitude.

We got through the check in and could tell Vick hated it. I was comforted by the fact that he'd not taken any tessarre. His name would only go in once. I'd taken tessarre once because Dad broke his pinky and it impaired his work for a week. We needed the extra food and rations it provided. But then he got past the pain and we got to go on. Thanks God, I thought. Please be with the people drawn today, and the people in their lives that will be affected by it.

And then it was time to split for good. I dropped Vick off, giving a squeeze and reminding him, "God is with you." I made my way to the front where the 18 year old girls were, and looked around for Hazel.

"You okay?" a gentle voice asked from behind.

I turned and saw there she was, chocolate hair shining. "As good as I can be," I replied.

She nodded, and we grabbed hands like we always did. There was nothing left to say. It was up to God and the odds.

"War. Terrible war," blasted suddenly from the speakers. We looked up and there was the projection of the history of Panem.

The Reaping had begun.


	2. Chapter 2: The Reaping

Chapter Two: The Reaping

When the history and anthem finally ended, the new escort came and introduced herself as Shimmer. Effie had been moved up after Katniss and Peeta won the 74th Hunger Games. "Welcome everyone, welcome. It's time to draw the names. Ladies first!"

She walked over to the bowl with the girl's names and drew one out slowly and painfully for everyone in the crowd. She clearly knew she was tormenting everyone in the crowd. I busied myself by looking around at the gray buildings all around me. I learned in history class the houses and buildings used to be many colors, but now they're all gray and silver.

God don't let it be me. Or Vick. Please!

"And our lucky winner is... Thalia Rokherst!"

It wasn't me. The immediate feeling relief was soon replaced with the heart clenching worry over Vick.

_**Trust me.**_

Thalia walked up shakily to the stage. She managed to keep a straight face though, which I never could've done.

"Congratulations Thalia! And now for the men." She walked over to the other huge round bowl and picked it out carrying it over to the mike. The suspense again was clear in almost everyone's expressions. If I could've I'd have winked at Vick just then, but he was too far back in the crowd.

"Our male tribute from district 12 this year is... Jackson Hawkthorn!"

I blinked in shock and suddenly the world was crumbling under my feet. The nagging feeling I'd had earlier seemed to slap me.

You see dear reader, Jackson is my best friend. Okay, I know I said Hazel was, but that's not entirely true. Jackson and I have known each other our whole lives, and, as I mentioned eariler Hazel moved here from another part of the district about two years ago. She's essentially my only girl friend.

Jackson and I however, grew up together, played together, worked together, learned together, done almost everything under the sun and moon together. Memories of him were abundant. Just yesterday, we'd sat just inside the fence, no one's as daring as Katniss Everdeen and her friend, and talked together. I remember being worried about him yesterday, but not today. He was the one I was forgetting.

But how? How could I have forgotten? I've known him forever and I forget him on the day he is sentenced to death!

_**Trust me.**_

As soon as she heard the name, Hazel immediately pulled me into an embrace, knowing I would be shaken up. I couldn't scream I couldn't call out, all I do was could stand there, tears pouring down my face with no effort. My eyes were squeezed shut.

"Shh," Hazel soothed, petting my hair. "It'll be okay. God is with him. Shhhhh..."

The reaping finished up, but I was oblivious. I didn't even watch him walk up there. Hazel's voice suddenly reached me, saying, "Caya, do you want to go say good-bye?"

I nodded, thinking, How can it be a_ good_-bye?

Hazel led me into the Justice Building and I blindly followed. We waited for his family to come out for a few minutes and then headed inside. Hazel and Jackson are friends too, but I'm the link, close to both of them. Hazel hugged him first, whispering something in his ear, probably that I was incredibly upset.

He nodded. "Thanks. Please take care of her Hazel, she'll be the worst." Turning to me, he held out his arms and I rushed into them. He rocked me back and forth, back and forth. Being in his arms was incredibly reassuring. We've never been romantic, but our friendship is strong and could turn serious if we decided to. We decided against that in 6th grade. Not till we were old enough for it to be realistic. Now, that could never happen.

After a few moments, I took a step back, the tears clearing for a moment. There were no tear lines on his face, he just looked incredibly burdened and stressed. He looked into my eyes, and I knew how horribly scared he was. Jackson is smaller in stature than most boys, but also strong and quick. His messed up redish hair got in his eyes and he brushed it away. He looked at me with his grey-green eyes, and said, "You've gotta be strong."

I nodded.

"Please, for my family. Especially Kate," he added, referring to his twin sister. "She's pretty shaken too. It's going to be okay though, whatever happens, even if I d-"

"Don't say it! You're not going to, you can't!" I cry out, speaking for the first time. It was then that I realized Hazel was no longer in the room.

"Caya, if I do, God's got you. He'll have me. It might even be a relief. I-"

"Stop Jackson, stop! Please," I cried.

"I love you," he says in a low voice, trying to hide the desperate and sincere way he says it.

"I love you too," I choke. "Here," I pull my hair-pin out. It has a small cross on it, with wing like designs expanding on the sides to complete it. "Take this. As your token. I know it's weird but..."

He took it gently from my hand. "It doesn't matter that it's weird. It's from you." He's blushing crimson. "Maybe I can even put it in my hair." We laughed, just like usual, which made me feel a little better. But the despair was hanging in the air and soon we breathed it back in.

"But," he said, examining it, "it might not pass..."

"Let me see it." I took it back and snapped the piece that would hold it in your hair. "Better?"

"Yeah, I can probably sand the rough point down some more."

Suddenly the door swung open. "Out girl," a peacekeeper barked.

And I was in his arms again, for another second before I was swept into the hall and the door slammed behind me. Hazel was there again, comforting me and stroking my back. Then, out of the blue, she was pulled away and we were both shoved towards the door. I fell to the floor. The peacekeeper pulled me up to his face and sneered, "Get up off the ground and scram girl."

Someone was prying my arm away, and a voice urged, "Run Caya, run!"

I looked up and saw the peacekeeper's hand slam into Jackson's stomach, hard. Jackson had freed me and was suffering from it. I wanted to yell at the peacekeeper, who wasn't really bringing peace, the name is so stupid, but I knew better. Jackson had done things like this for me before, but then I was just to escape and leave him, because the longer I stayed, the worse things got. He usually left soon after me, but never before I was gone.

Jackson doubled over and his knees slammed into the tile floor. Slowly I backed away, too horrified to move any faster. The peacekeeper grabbed below Jackson's wrist and pulled him up, as he'd done to me. "Don't you ever fight back again, or I'll kill you and we'll have to have another reaping to replace you," he snarled, pushing Jackson forward, causing him to stumble. He looked up and caught my eye and his eyebrows shot up in warning.

I turned and ran. Ran out of the Justice building, out of the square, past the Seam, finally collapsing in front of the fence. Sobs racked my body until I finally passed out from exertion and anxiety.

My best friend had been reaped.


	3. Chapter 3: Reaping Replays

Chapter Three: Reaping Replays and Precious Memories

I chewed my lip, staring at the TV screen. Hazel's arm was around me, my family and hers curled up in our living room watching the Reaping Replay. District Three's flashed by without my attention. My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the memories soaked into the simple room. It had our one couch and an old easy chair Dad found in the street. The window faced the street and the only item of interested was the television and the books stacked in a corner.

I could see Jackson everywhere.

He and I were laughing over a book opened between us, wondering how an author could have time to make the book so hilarious. We were watching years passed of Reaping Replays and other Hunger Games. We were teasing each other as we passed through...

_"Caya, look at that!"_

_"What?"_

_"That hawk! Oh, see it's grace! If I were a bird, I'd want to be an hawk, just like that gorgeous one up there! What would you want to be?"_

_"A mockingjay. I'd want to carry a tune, and share it with all the world around me."_

_"You'd make a beautiful mockingjay."_

_"You'd make a handsome hawk, Jackson Hawkthorne."_

. . .

"And last but certainly not least, District Twelve," Caesar Flickerman declared, snapping my attention away from the memories. I watched the girl go up again, and then Jackson's name was called. He solemnly walks upstage, showing no emotion, no fear, no pain, no weakness. Tears flow down my cheeks as I watch him shake hands with Thalia. The only time he ever looks like that is when he's getting protective and reserved. District 12 isn't an easy place to live. Countless times he'd have to protect me or his sister. Kate Hawkthorne and I were defiantly friends, but she's not my best friend in any sense. I'm much closer to Jackson.

Seeing his protective face shook something in me. Like I should be the one up there. I should've volunteered in his place. It was my turn to be the protector.

But I couldn't. Even if I'd had the guts to volunteer, it wouldn't have mattered. I couldn't volunteer in a boy's place, only in a girl's. We would both have gone.

Knowing this didn't change my feelings however.

The Replay was soon over and Caesar Flickerman chatted with the Gamemaker about this year's tributes. But I couldn't stay there, I had to be outside.

Excusing myself I slipped out into the street and slumped against the backside of our house, which looked out on the hills around the district. I watched the setting sun flicker through the trees and quietly disappear around the horizon. Could Jackson see the beautiful spectacle? No, because the sun would be disappearing over the tops of the harsh buildings of the capitol. And Jackson's window would be closed. He's a nature freak- not that he has the time or energy to do anything about it. Or had I should say.

It's not that I didn't believe he could win. I did. He had a secret strength, which was his faith and his cunning. He was able to get through slippery situations sometimes without even a scratch on his heart, mind or body.

But that was sometimes. Honestly, that had only happened once. When he did get into fights, he was fast and had his own kind of strength.

If he did come back, he might be a very different person than I'd said good-bye to today.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up I saw Kate, her eyes filled with gallons of water about to spill over. I stood and we hugged. I hadn't seen her since a few days before the reaping.

"Sit, please," I managed to choke through my tears in an attempt to be hospitable.

We crouched down together in the twilight and leaned against each other. Neither of us said anything for a spell, in an unspoken, unwritten agreement. We leaned together, taking in each other's warmth.

"The house feels so empty," Kate whispered finally. "I miss listening to his steady breathing all through the night. I keep getting four dishes and having to put one set back. He's not constantly teasing me. Oh Caya, I miss him! How can he be gone? There's just this big hole where he used to be..." her voice trailed off as she succumbed to tears.

"I don't know," I managed to say. "I don't know Kate. I just know that I feel that empty feeling too and I just can't get rid of it."

"What's the thing you miss most about him?" she asked in a small voice.

"I miss his presence. I miss how he would point out all the little things that I wouldn't notice, like the way a leaf falls from a tree. I miss the way he would show me all the little things about myself that I didn't know before. I miss the way he made God so obviously there."

I felt Kate nod. "He makes God so real. He has the strongest faith in anyone I've ever known. I pretend to be disgusted that he's my twin, but honestly Caya, it's an honor. Oh, God please don't let him die!" she cried out in anguish.

Remembering what Jackson had said about being strong, I took her and held her close. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing I could do for her.

We lay there in silence for maybe an hour longer. Dusk turned to dark and I stared at the sky, at the constellations. I picked out the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper and Orion easily. Centaurus was a little difficult to find, but remembering how Jackson picked out the horse's legs, I found that too. Centaurus was Jackson's favorite constellation.

"It's getting late," I told Kate finally. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

Kate stood. "No that's okay. It's only a few houses down."

"I insist."

She sighed in resignation and let me come with her. We didn't speak until we got to her door.

"I'll be praying for you Kate," I said as we hugged good-bye.

"Ditto. I'll see you tomorrow Caya."

"Bye."

"Bye."


	4. Chapter 4: Older or Younger?

Chapter Four: Older or Younger?

24 hours. It's been 24 hours since the reaping. More than that even. I shudder at the thought. Just yesterday I'd been with Jackson and seen his face...

And been torn away from him.

I stared up at the ceiling, thinking, wondering. Did he miss me? What did the capitol look like? Had he made any sort of alliance with the girl for our district? Had he met Katniss and Peeta yet? As mentors anyway. They were 19 this year and though they're a year older, we've all grown up together. But none of us were ever close, just classmates.

I could still see his face, frozen in the expression that I'd last seen him, dangerously indignant. His mouth was in a tight straight line and his eyes were glaring at the peacekeeper. His nostrils were flared outwards, a sign that he was beyond mad.

And he was mad for me. It was a expression I'd seen on him multiple times, but this particular one was frozen in place and I could conjure up no other image of his face from my memory, hard as I tried.

"Caya? Caya? Helloo? Earth to Caayya! Caya!"

I jerked towards the voice. Vick's worried face peered into my own. "Y-yes?" I asked, disoriented.

"Whew," he sighed sitting back on his bed. I looked around and found myself in our bedroom. I must've spaced out.

"What happened? What'd I do?"

"Nothing really," he said, fear edging his words. "You were just muttering under your breath and wouldn't respond."

"Well that's interesting," I mused. "What did I say?"

"Something about Jackson," he replied. "It was nerve wracking."

"Sorry, I'll try not to do that anymore," I tell him.

A long silence stretched between us. Finally, Vick said, "So, what do you want to do?"

What do I want to do? He never asks me what I want to do! It's always what he wants to do! I would want to watch what's going on with Jackson, but the parade isn't until tonight, so there isn't anything worth watching yet.

Am I really that depressed?

"Umm," I mumbled, "not anything particularly."

He looked at me peculiarly. "Seriously. You must want to do something."

"No."

"Well, let's go... take walk."

"I'm pretty worn out from yesterday."

"How about a game?"

"What kind of game?"

"I don't know. We could try one of the board games."

Our board games are pieces of cardboard with charcoal writing on them and rocks we found for markers. I didn't really want to move things around on cardboard either.

"Caya!" he protested, "You're impossible!" Then, sighing, he added, "Fine. I give up. But if you want to do something, I'm available."

He left the room and I sat back on the bed, questions brewing in my mind. Why was Vick so willing to be with me? He always wanted to be by himself unless something was wrong. And nothing was wrong with Vick. It must be me.

This is about Jackson. There's no other explanation.

. . .

"And here comes District 11, representing Agriculture!" cried Caesar Flickerman, beyond excited. Honestly, it was frightening excitement. He had always been equally excited other years, but this year was different. Watching Katniss and Peeta had been pretty thrilling, but Jackson was out there. I'd had classmates die from this, but never my best friend. Never anyone I cared about.

"And the grand finale, District 12, Coal Mining!"

I didn't want to look. Yet I did at the same time. The two impulses held me frozen in place, watching whether I wanted to or not.

The camera zoomed in and there was Jackson and Thalia, holding hands- obviously Katniss and Peeta's doing. They were glowing from head to toe in bright shimmery material, looking just like coals dying after a warm blazing fire. The outfits had enough black to make them look almost exactly like embers. Thalia had bright rosy blush on and her hair fell in delicate locks. She was smiling effortlessly towards the crowd, waving her free home with endless energy.

Jackson's smile was more of a grimace. It was a hidden grimace that I could only pick out because we'd been friends for so long. His waves were stiffer, more forced. His hand hung loosely in Thalia's, a sign that he would rather be anywhere else. Which is understandable.

The camera zoomed out again so all the chariots were in view.

"And President Snow shall conclude this Chariot parade!" shouted Flickerman.

The president made his usual remarks: "Welcome everyone to the 77th Hunger Games! Welcome, welcome...!" He continued on about "the best year yet" which he says every year. Apparently, according to him, every year got even better. The districts- other than 1 and 2 who are always just as hyped up as the capitol- know it's just 23, or the one year of 22, more lives lost. Lives of kids, the ones who hadn't done anything to them.

Utter Cruelty.

The chariots arranged themselves at the end of the huge Auditorium. They zoomed in on all the faces and when they got to Jackson, I could tell he was relieved that it was over, but also nervous about more upcoming events. And there was something else in his expression that I couldn't quite figure out. It was some sort of pain, agony, but I couldn't pinpoint it.

And then the tributes made their escape and all that was left to watch was the overview by the Gamemaker and Flickerman. There was also the crowds screaming in the background, but who wants to listen to that?

Vick sighed, leaned over and switched the TV off. He turned to me. "What do you think?"

I shrugged. "About what?"

"The Chariot Entrance, smart one."

"Oh, that." I paused, hesitating. How could I phrase this without revealing too much of myself to my brother. He's still six years younger than me. But somehow, the last few days he hadn't seemed that way as much as it had before. It was as though he was no longer the little brother I knew but a peer that was a stranger to me. "Just like all the other years," I finally decided on.

"You don't really think that do you?" he asked doubtfully.

"Well, I guess that last chariot, you know, from that coal mining district you only hear about, was pretty flashy," I teased.

He managed a smile. "Well that's good." He sounded like he wasn't done talking so I waited. "I'm just worried about you."

"Hey, who's supposed to be worrying about who mister? Who's the big sister here?"

"Well you, but-"

"Then why are you worried about me bud?"

"Caya, your best friend was reaped! Don't you think I'd be a little concerned? I am your brother after all."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I was completely inert in body, but my mind was racing a million miles an hour. Vick had gotten me. Usually, the big sister thing works pretty well but he'd finally defeated it. And there was no argument to counter the one he'd just thrown. The Hunger games had that power. If you thought something was impossible, the Hunger Games would crush it. Think you're never gonna murder someone? Wait till you're reaped. Think you'll never steal from anyone in your district? Wait till you're the last two left. Think you could never watch your friend die? Wait till they get reaped. Think your kids will prosper? Wait till they get reaped. The Hunger Games had this gripping control that no one could break, and the only ones who got even close was Katniss and Peeta.

"Caya?" Vick's voice broke into my conscience. "Caya, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I… I just need some time, okay?"

"Okay Caya. But just 'cause I'm twelve doesn't mean that I can't understand."


	5. Chapter 5: He's in Control

**AN: The bible passage in this chapter is from Deuteronomy 24:16. See if you can find it!**

Chapter Five: He's in Control

Understand? Understand. How could anyone understand? What the heck did understand mean in the first place? Did it mean someone is supposed to get what you're feeling and saying? If so, there was no way ANYONE could understand.

Okay, Kate might understand. But venting on her was out of the question, it would hurt her too much. Because that pain was bitter and raw and untouchable.

Jackson would understand too. And thinking about it, he was probably missing home a lot more than we were missing him, he didn't have anyone except Thalia and he didn't even know her before. But I know without a doubt that he would feel the same for me.

I paced across the living room floor, ranting, as Vick had finally left me alone. It had been 48 hours now since the reaping. Two whole days. And a few more hours. I'd had school today, but during the hunger games the curriculum isn't as stressful.

"Why you stupid capitol?! We never did anything to you, that was our ancestors! We're not responsible for what they did, it was generations ago!

"You're enjoyment isn't worth 23 lives every year! Did you ever think of that? No, you were just thinking of the easiest way to make them SCREAM!"

Finally I decided to take a few deep breaths and chill out a little. I am thankful that our neighbors aren't generally the kind to tattle on others, so I'm not in too much danger. I wandered into my room, forcing myself to take every step slowly. Opening the trunk at the end of my bed, I took out my bible. It's worn pages had yellowed over the years. The Capitol doesn't care about religion, so holy books are no longer produced due to lack of resources. Mine must be 200 years old at the least.

I flipped it open randomly sitting on the bed. I didn't care where it landed, I just wanted God's word to calm me.

"Parents are not to be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their parents; each will die for their own sin."

Holy cow. Really holy cow. Like 16.5 holy cows.

God agreed with me. He agreed with us. All of us.

...

Days passed and I lazed around the house and paced the fence. Sometime I slept too, if I was lucky. As these were the training days for the tributes, they weren't shown on TV. They just went on and on about how 'wonderful' and 'exciting' these games were going to be. I could remember how Jackson and I had scoffed at them together.

_"Just like last year!" I'd exclaim._

_"And all the years before that," Jackson would add._

"We've got an exceptional group of tributes this year!"

_"Like you'd even think about the tributes in the first place," Jackson would say, shaking his head in disapproval. _

Vick had stopped bugging me about talking, but I could tell he was being more protective of me than usual, which was strange as he is six years younger. I'm the one who's supposed to do that.

I felt offended in a way. In my mind, it's Jackson's job. Jackson and I have known each other our whole lives and he protected me even when we were five. I smile remembering how we'd play that I was the captured princess he was coming to save. He'd battle ferociously with the bushes until they finally gave up in despair. Or they'd give up all their leaves because they couldn't keep them on...

Really, it's Dad's job. He'd done it as often as he could, but he and I weren't constantly together, like it was with Jackson. Jackson was there, so he protected me more often.

"No, Caya, it's God's job."

_Who... what?_

I turned to see Mom standing behind me, a dish rag- yes, rag- over her shoulder.

"H-how did you know what I-I was thinking?" I stammered.

She smiled, embarrassed. "You were muttering to yourself. I didn't mean to listen, but it was difficult not to. I'm sorry honey. Do you want to talk about it?"

_Muttering AGAIN?_ None of my family members have noticed this before.

I looked up into her face to see that her warm brown eyes were full of love and caring and concern. I could see the worry hiding behind her pupils.

I melted under their gaze. Right there on the couch I just started sobbing. I couldn't control myself. Mom came over and sat next to me. I put my head on her shoulder and just let it all go.

Mom stroked my back and just sat there for at least a half and hour as I sobbed my heart out. Okay, not really- it's still intact. Nothing could take my passion away, not even tears. I wished it did though. Then nothing would hurt me.

But nothing would heal me either.

Finally my flood of tears ended, mostly because I ran out of them. I could feel myself trembling. It was as if I wasn't inside my body anymore, as though I couldn't control myself and I was watching from the outside. Mom stopped rubbing and just held me there.

Eventually, my shaking subsided as well. Mom asked quietly, "Caya honey, I know this has been really hard for you. I want you to remember that God is in control and always will be. He is your fortress and strong tower. He may have Jackson win for His glory, he may have Jackson lose for His glory."

"How on Earth could Jackson l-losing help glorify God?" I asked, choking on the part about Jackson losing.

"Because God can show people His light through a time of trouble. Maybe Jackson will make a difference in another tribute's life and that tribute will find Jesus. He can teach those Jackson touched important lessons about himself."

"Like trust?"

"Exactly. He can also show us how to value our time with people. I don't even know what else, but He does. He loves Jackson more than you and even his family honey. And even if he does leave us, he'll be with our Father."

I couldn't bring myself to speak anymore. I wasn't crying, but I was numb all over, as if my heart had been placed in the freezer.

"I'll be in bed if you need me," I told Mom, pulling gently away.

"Okay honey. Remember what I said: He is in control."


	6. Chapter 6: Free from the Illusion

Chapter Six: Free from the Illusion

There are flowers everywhere, in all directions, going to infinity. Roses and tulips and lilies and pansies and chrysanthemums and many, many more I cannot name. The sky above me is clear with a few fluffy white clouds overhead. I hear birds chirping and bees buzzing and leaves rustling in a soft breeze. The grass and dirt is soft under my bare feet and I wiggle my toes in it. The air around me is beyond fresh. I am on top of the world.

Slowly I spin in a circle, my gold hair stinging my face. Behind me is a tree with red fruit. My mouth waters. It is the only tree in sight. I reach forward and pluck one off. Something in me tells me not to eat it, but I taste it anyway. It's taste is sweet and tart. I greedily finish the whole thing.

And then something bites my ankle. It is a snake, who looks triumphant. He is green and yellow and scaly.

Everything goes black.

...

I open my eyes in a prison cell. I am chained to a wall. There are other cells going forever into the distance with one person in each, chained to a wall.

"What is going on?" I ask an old woman next to me.

"Oh, nothing in particular." She laughs. "Just waiting for our food. Don't you think it's nice here?"

I stare at her in shock. "Are you okay?"

"Of course dearie, why wouldn't I be?"

"Um, you're chained to a wall in a prison cell."

"No I'm not."

"Well where are you then?"

"Paradise."

I look to my left and have a similar conversation with the boy there. He's about 9 years old, and also believes this is paradise.

Soon a wiry 50 or so man came with some food. I ate as best I could chained to the wall and then, it seemed, my eyes opened.

All around me were pearls. On a throne in the center of the room there was a man in red. Odd. I look around and see a few other people milling about, daze like. I'm doing the same.

Days seem to pass, and I eat and daze around and feel content. Nothing ever changes.

Until one day. A very familiar looking boy bursts into the room. He glances around fervently, and his eyes rest on me. He runs towards me. I stand there, just watching him, wondering what could be so urgent. He stops about 4 feet in front of me and seems to grab onto something.

"Caya!" he hisses. I wonder how he knows my name. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Um, you're in a prison cell."

"No I'm not," I say, confused.

He sucks in his breath and lets it out slowly. "Caya, trust me. Whatever you see around you is an illusion. You're in a prison cell. You're chained to a wall. Caya, come out of it!"

I look around doubtfully.

"Caya look at me. You're being fooled. You're trapped. I'm here to take you back to our Creator who loves you and wants you with Him."

"What Creator?"

An absolutely terrified look entered his eyes. Tears quickly gathered and ran down his cheeks, though he made no sound. He bowed his head in despair.

"What's wrong?"

He looks up at me, the pain harsh and sharp and burning in his eyes. "You were the most faithful person I ever knew. You loved Jesus, you walked with him for so long. But now, you're trapped and it's not just your body but your mind."

He looked away, then continued. "Caya. Jesus. Do you remember Jesus?"

"It sounds vaguely familiar," I say, still confused by his words.

"He died for you Caya, so that you could be with Him, even though He is perfect and you're not."

"Why would anyone die for anyone else?" I ask.

"Because of Love. It is greatest kind of Love anyone can have. Because what happens to them isn't important, it's what happens to the person they love."

"Who do you love?"

"Caya, I love you."

The world breaks into pieces like glass around me and I'm put back into the cell I was originally in, only now remembering what had happened. Jackson is standing there, holding onto the door with his hands, squeezing so hard his hands were turning pale. A worried filled look still consumed his face.

"Jackson?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too. I remember Jesus now."

"Oh, thank God," he says, and he means it. This is no curse, he really is thanking God. "Caya, come with me."

"Um, I'm chained to a wall..."

A look of surprise mixed with relief crosses his face. "Caya just say that you'll come with me. Say that you believe this is a cell."

"Of course I'll come with you. And yeah, this is a cell."

The chain clanked against the wall, falling off my wrists and ankles. I looked down in shock. "How did...?"

"No time to explain! We've got to get out of here!" He shoved the door out of his way and grabbed my wrist, almost dragging me out of the cell.

We start running, down the hall, back the way he came. I am shocked by how long it is, how many people are here, believing this paradise. I shivered to think I was just like them moments ago.

Jackson came to an abrupt halt. I careened into him. He flinched, but simply put his hand over my mouth to keep me from crying out.

I nodded and he put his hand down. I stood there, frozen with fear. What had cause him to stop so suddenly?

He turned, as though reading my thoughts and whispered into my ear, "There's a guard ahead. I have a way to get rid of him. Stay here and don't look. I'll be back in a second."

And then he was gone. Just like that, and I felt all alone.

Until I heard a sickening grunt and something thumped to the ground.

Against my better judgement, I peeked around the corner. My head was back in an instant, regretting it instantly.

For what I had seen made my blood run so cold it seemed to freeze.


	7. Chapter 7: Miss Crazy-Fast-Recovery-Girl

Chapter Seven: Miss Crazy-Fast-Recovery-Girl

In the quick second I had dared to look, I saw Jackson pulling a knife out of a really ugly ghoul's back. The monster was covered in a dark brown warty skin and it's blood was green, sticking to Jackson's knife like peanut butter and dripping off in big gloops.

I took slow deep breaths. A moment later, Jackson came to get me.

"You killed him!" I hissed, not thinking.

Jackson's eyes darkened. "I told you to stay here and not peek!" he hissed back, "Caya, I had to. He would've killed us and we'd be lost forever. He's done nothing but evil his entire life. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Including murder!?"

"It wasn't murder. He was a monster who wanted us locked away or dead for the rest of our lives, separated from God's love! All he wanted was our torment. All I wanted was to get out of here alive. Now come on or someone will sound an alarm!"

"Jackson-"

"Now!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me past the body, and through a thick metal gate. We climbed up a dark set of stairs lit only by green torches attached to the wall.

We reached a landing and started to turn towards the next set of stairs when we heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. Jackson stops a moment, then shoves me up the stairs in front of him. "Go!" he hisses.

I have no choice but to obey. I climb as quickly as my legs can take me. Jackson is close behind; I can feel his breath on my back. I reach the top and an arrow come whizzing over my head. And another come sailing on my left. Jackson is pushing me towards a door but it is too late.

It was one of those moments that go unbelievably slowly.

I saw the arrow before it hit. It came closer and closer, faster and faster. In the single moment I had to think, I reached out with my hand, trying to block it.

Fiery pain erupted in my hand where the arrow pierced my skin. I dimly heard a scream and only much later did I realize it was my own.

Someone is dragging me and yelling. I stumble towards them, nothing but pain and escape filling my mind. I follow as we wind our way through corridor after corridor.

A prisoner calls from my left and I turn towards the voice, even though I have no understanding of the words. It is soft and gentle and strong all at once.

A door swings open and we are inside the jail cell of the person with the soft voice. I collapse onto the floor, the pain and exhaustion too much to bear now.

I hear voices talking, and Jackson asks, "Caya? How are you? Do you need anything?"

I open my mouth to speak but find it is too parched to say anything. "Water," I finally cough painfully.

Jackson's brow creases. "Elizabeth, do you have any water?"

Someone hands him a cup and he brings it to my lips, only letting me drink a few drops at a time. "How does your hand feel?"

I raise my other hand in a thumbs-up turned sideways in answer.

He turns around and starts whispering with our host. Now that we are closer, I can tell by her voice that the speaker is a young girl.

"Who.. are... you... talking... to," I manage to say, wanting to know who this strange person is.

"Me." A pretty face pops into view. "My name's Elizabeth." She has brown eyes and blonde hair that flows in waves down her back and around her shoulders.

"Caya, can you sit up?"

I nod, manage to drag myself to the wall and lean against it. Now I can see much better.

Jackson looks at me still concerned, and turns to Elizabeth, saying, "She needs medical attention. I don't want her wound getting infected. Do you have any semi-clean strips of cloth around here?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Moments later, I feel a pull at the arrow, still stuck in my hand and cry out, almost fainting as Jackson removes it. Then it is over and the cloth is being wrapped around my hand. It is so soft...

...

I wake about two hours later, and listen to the conversation at hand.

"You'll need to stay here for a few days at least so her hand heals completely."

"We don't have a few days."

"Why not? They're not chasing you anymore."

"The longer we stay, the harder it will be to leave. What are you, an atheist? I can already tell..."

"Well yes, I am. How did you know?"

"I can feel the absence of God."

"What does religion have to do with you leaving?"

Jackson sighs before continuing. "Elizabeth, what do you see around you?"

"Um, my home with two strangers in it hiding from their enemies."

"Do you see hope and love?"

"Not particularly."

"I do. When I'm outside, I can feel God giving me hope and love. But this place is designed to snuff out the fire God gives every person. I've managed to get Caya out of a much worse place, but I can't let her get trapped here again."

They fall silent, discontinuing the conversation they'd been having as though I hadn't been there. Something in me finally senses his urgency and I struggle to stand.

"Woah!" Jackson exclaims, "What are you trying to do?"

"Stand," I croak, pushing off the floor painfully and drawing to my full height, still holding the wall as the world swirls around me.

Jackson stares at me in astonishment. "Are you sure you can do this right now?"

"Seems a good a time as any," I say, grinning into his amazed face. The dizziness ceases and I head towards the door."You two ready to go?"

"Us two?" Elizabeth inquires, confusion swimming all over her face.

"God has a much better plan for you besides sitting in a cell," I tell her, pushing open the door. "By the way, why is this unlocked?"

"Stole it years ago but never used it until your friend here came crashing around the corner, dragging you with him," Elizabeth explains, coming over to the door.

Jackson follows, grinning at me. "So, Miss Crazy-Fast-Recovery-Girl, with a tough of Impatience, are you going to stand there chatting or are you actually going to open the door?"


	8. Chapter 8: Square in the Eye

Chapter Eight: Square in the Eye

"There it is, "Jackson's voice murmurs into my ear. "The way out."

"But there's at least three monsters blocking it," Elizabeth points out.

She's right. Three ghouls, that look enough like the one Jackson killed to be siblings, stand directly in front of the door, practically daring anyone to try to pass.

"Three against three," Jackson says, trying to be positive. "But really, it's one against three, because I'm the only one with any sort of weapon."

"You only have the knife?" I question.

"Well I have that and a sword..."

"Then give one of us the dagger," Elizabeth tells him.

"But what about the third?" Jackson points out.

It's then that I see the pointed stone laying on the ground. "What about this?" I suggest, picking it up.

"I'll take it," Elizabeth states, taking it from me.

Jackson nods in agreement and hands me the knife, still tinted green from the last ghoul it took out. "Okay, here's the plan..."

...

"One down, two to go," Elizabeth whispers. We're watching Jackson from the same spot we made our plans in, waiting for his signal.

One of the monsters has fallen and Jackson is already sticking his sword into another. We watch as the third and final monster falls as well.

We hurry quickly to his side, grinning from ear to ear.

"You did it!" I exclaim triumphantly.

He starts to smile back but something behind me extinguishes it before it'd even really been there. I feel my eyebrows crinkle as I turn quickly around, gripping for the knife.

A beast, two to three times larger than the other ones is standing a few feet behind me. The other monsters looked like fashionable movie stars in comparison to it's ugliness. It's covered in a coarse gray fur that is clumped together in tangled lumps. It has six toes on each 'foot', six fingers on each 'hand', which are better described as paws. But what paralyzes me is not it's ugliness. It's the beatty, red eyes.

The world has stopped except for the monster. He grins evilly and then begins to laugh menacingly.

"You have mere steps between me and freedom. I even gave you the privilege of being closer to the door. And yet, none of you can move. I don't have to lift a finger, I only need to open my eyesss," he holds out the "ss" sound, staring at me. It's voice is not as you would expect. It is not hoarse, fearsome or menacing, but soft and silvery, more like an angel's or a butterfly's.

The frightening thing is, he's right. One-hundred percent right. He hasn't done anything but stand there and stare at us and taunt us. And though I want to, my efforts to move fail.

Finally, the creature releases his "ss" for lack of air, and time comes back into existence. I can almost move...

He blinks.

That's all we needed. I suddenly realize that my knife is gone. Something silver glints, from behind the monster...

...who's reopened his eyes. I am frozen again.

But Jackson isn't. In one hand he holds his sword out in front of him and the other is planted in front of his eyes, shielding him from the monster's gaze. He advances close enough to strike a blow. He swings his sword...

But isn't fast enough. The monster has already lifted his paws and swiped. Jackson goes flying, crashing to the ground.

My heart is thumping in fear. I have no weapon. I am small in comparison to my opponent.

In two strides, I am at Elizabeth's ear. "Get him out of here."

"Okay, but what about-"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I've got God on my side, haven't I? Oh, and can I have your rock?"

"Sure." She hands it to me. "Be careful, alright?"

"I will."

Quick as a wink, she's gone. I am alone with this giant.

Except, that's not true. It's me, the monster, and God.

One of the most famous stories- or should I say histories- in the Bible is David and Goliath. The Israelites, God's people, were up against a fearsome enemy, the Philistines. The Philistines had many things the Israelites didn't, one major one being a giant. The giant, Goliath, challenges the Israelites to send out their bravest and best warrior to fight him. Whoever won the battle would win the war.

But the Israelites were too afraid. No one would go forth to fight Goliath.

David was a shepherd, whose older brothers were fighting in the war against the Philistines. One day, his father sent him with food for his brothers. While he was there, he heard about the challenge Goliath and how the Israelites had been unresponsive for the 41st time in a row.

David, who had never fought a day in his life, took five stones and a slingshot and went to answer Goliath's challenge. Everyone thought he was a fool to try. He even refused armor and weapons from King Saul. Behind him, soldiers were quaking in his armor as he shot Goliath. It only took one stone. It sank into his forehead and killed him.

The only reason David won was because God was with him, and because he was willing to do what God said. He ignored all the taunts and "you're too small"s and did something miraculous.

The odds are against me. I don't have a slingshot, but I have a stone. And more importantly, I have God.

I throw the stone. Right before I turn away, I see where the stone hits this Goliath.

It hits him square in the eye.


	9. Chapter 9: Missing

Chapter Nine: Missing

I hear the monster growling in agony as I quickly escape after Jackson and Elizabeth. The door is narrow but I slip through easily. Sunlight assaults my eyes.

I blink and my eyes adjust. Flowers stretch in every direction just as I remember. A few feet to my left, I see Elizabeth bent over something- no, someone. Jackson.

I hurry to her side. "Is he okay?" I ask gently.

She bites her lip. "I don't know. We need to get him to a hospital or something. That was a pretty awful blow."

I sit back on my legs, trying to decide what to do. "Is he bleeding anywhere?"

"Probably, but not on the outside. There's really nothing we can do Caya."

I look desolately at my broken friend in front of me. "Wake up. Wake up please." I murmur. "God, we need You," I pray, looking to the sky.

Jackson opens his eyes. "Caya," he croaks, then starts coughing violently. Elizabeth sits him up, his body completely limp and unmoving. "Caya, be brave. You did wonderfully back there, but you need to keep being brave. God's got your back." He coughs again and then makes an attempt to move his head so he can see my face. "I love you."

...

My eyes fly opened and I was suddenly confused. Where was I? I glance about wildly at the faces around me, trying to figure it out.

Every face is familiar, and every face is tired, and every face is smiling at me. There was a warm face with deep brown eyes and what would be thick blond hair if it could've had better care. There is a strong face with dark brown hair and light blue eyes, twinkling back into my own. There is a much younger face, a mix of the last two, with the deep brown eyes and the dark brown hair, his features as happy as Christmas. And another face, twinkling hazel eyes and short brown hair about shoulder length. I can feel her hand in mine as she squeezes it gently. And one last face, curly auburn hair and deep gray-green eyes.

Someone's missing.

The last face, looked so similar to the missing one. And still, I wasn't sure where I was.

And then it came to me.

It was just a dream.

I can name all those faces. Mom. Dad. Vick. Hazel, her name matching her eyes. Kate. Kate is Jackson's twin. And Jackson was at the capital, because he'd been reaped and now he's a tribute.

But if it was just a dream, then why were they all standing here smiling at me?

"What's going on?" I finally asked.

"You've been out for three days, honey. We couldn't wake you up. Do you remember your dream? You were talking in your sleep." Mom came closer and touched my cheek as she explained all this.

"Yes, I remember it. But I don't want to explain it just now. And you can stop staring at me like that; you're scaring me, everyone!"

They chuckled, and Vick, Dad, and Kate leave the room.

"Was I really asleep for three days?" I asked, disbelieving.

"Yes," Hazel answers. "You scared me. I don't want to lose both of my friends!"

Wait. I'd been asleep for three days. And three days ago's tomorrow was the interview day and the day after was the Countdown.

I shot straight up. "Did I miss-"

"Yes, but we got a recording. Lay back down," Mom assured me, pushing me back into a resting position.

"Why? I've been asleep for three days I should get up now." I pushed past Hazel, walked into our main room and plopped down on the couch. "Dad, Mom said there's a recording of what I missed. May I watch it?" I asked him.

"Sure," he replied. "But let's watch it together."

And so, we all gathered together on our couch. Kate said she'd rather go home so it was my family and Hazel. Apparently it wasn't something she wanted to see again.

"Do you want to watch them all or just our district?" asked Vick who was putting the recording into the side of the screen.

"Maybe I'll watch them later, but I'd rather just see ours," I decided.

We fast-forward to Thalia's and watch her chatter nervously through her interview, failing to captivate most audience-members' attention.

And then Jackson. He walks onto the stage, a grimace over his protective face. Something between fierce anger and anguish. He sits down stiffly and looks at Flickerman, waiting for the questions.

"Well hello Jackson Hawkthorne! Welcome, welcome. Don't be afraid to relax," Caesar advises.

Immediately, the tenseness evaporates from Jackson's face. But I see through it. His original expression still burns as his attitude inside. This relaxed expression is just a ploy to get them to think so.

"That's better! Now tell me Jackson, what do you think of the Capitol?"

Jackson fidgeted for a moment then said, "It's big."

"Yes, we are pretty big around here. Just look at this stage! It's so large we could fit three or four of your houses from back home. You know, Hawkthorne is quite an interesting name. You ever felt like a hawk?"

"I've wanted to." Again, a short answer. And another memory, the one about the hawk and the mockingjay.

"You'd make an excellent one. Doesn't he look cunning," Caesar asked the audience. They respond positively, helping Jackson's act become more genuine. "What do you miss most about your home, Mr. Hawkthorn?"

"My family, and my best friend," he said quietly and looks almost directly at the camera, and though it isn't purposeful, I feel like I'm melting. I hear his words again, the dream ones and the real ones mixed together perfectly, filling each other out. "I love you, but I'm not worried about you, because God's with you all the way."

"Tell us more about them," Caesar commanded on the screen.

"Well, um, I miss my parents' guidance. They always make God so real. And my sister, Kate, she's my twin and one of the sweetest, most creative people I know." Pain flashes through his eyes and it's unmistakable to the audience and you can hear their sympathy, though mocked.

"And your friend?"

Jackson looked at the floor. "I grew up with her, we've been friends as long as I can remember. There's no one on the planet that's anything like her. She's so funny and she listens and she cares. It doesn't matter whether you're upset about a bad grade in school or if you've lost something dear, she's always there for you. Leaving her was the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever." He looked up now, at the audience, at the camera. "I love her. And I'm going to come back for her."

The audience was quiet. Not dead silent, like when Peeta announced his crush on Katniss two years ago, but nearly. "And what's this amazing girl's name?" Caesar asked.

"Caya. Her name is Caya."


	10. Chapter 10: Love?

Chapter Ten: Love?

The screen went black as Jackson's words echoed through my head. _"Leaving her was the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever. I lover her. And I'm going to come back for her."_

He's coming back for me?! Not Kate, not his parents, but me.

The tears are streaming down my face before I can think to stop them, or even to start them. Mom and Hazel hold each of my hands, Hazel on my left, Mom on my right. And at the exact same moment, they squeeze my hand.

_**I love you.**_

The words came from God, with Jackson's voice. Because it's not just my family and Hazel and Kate and Jackson that love me, it's God too. Why else would He send His son into something as brutal as the Hunger Games, though thousands of years ago, unless to save us? To save me.

"Ready for the Countdown?" Vick inquired gently.

I nodded, feeling that now was a good a time as any since I'd missed it when it really happened.

It begins with a shot of the arena. The region was hilly and there were good sized mountains behind them. Pine trees and evergreen trees were sparse where the Cornucopia was but they get denser farther off. There was a river in the background. The announcer for the viewers announce that it was once called the Rocky Mountains in an ancient place called Colorado. The voice went on to describe how close it was to the capital, what the climate was like, etc, etc.

"Let the 77th annual Hunger Games begin!"

Then there was a metal whirring sound and soon the heads of the tributes popped up, standing on their metal plates that are lifting them up out of the ground. Lots of them looked panicked. The camera zooms in on each face as a booming voice counts down, "60, 59, 58..."

They get to Jackson. "15, 13, 12..."

His jaw is set; his protective face intact. But he is ready, I can see it because there is fire in his eyes and the camera is zooming out again because the commentator is on the last numbers. "3, 2, 1, 0."

There is an explosion of movement from every tribute and in instants, arrows and knives and daggers are flying and cutting and killing.

But I never noticed it because my eyes are on Jackson. He ran as fast as he can- which is fairly fast- and grabbed a blue backpack off the ground. He heads towards the woods, towards the river.

Katniss' idea no doubt.

Vick hit the stop button. "The rest is just a bunch of violence. Seven died at the Cornucopia, but the Careers are alright and so is Jackson and a few others as far as we know."

"Why don't we check?" Hazel suggested.

Vick nodded and turned the live on. The camera was zoomed in on a girl who had just fell out of a tree and broken her neck. Her name was Sagitarria Inchcape according to the screen, from district 10. I can't help wondering if anyone will remember her besides her family.

The screen checked on a few other tributes and then there's Jackson, healthy strong, hunting with a small knife from his pack. He look set on the job before him, oblivious to the rest of the world and I hoped he was. Apparently, nothing else interesting was happening at the moment because they just kept showing him.

Dad turned it off. "Alright, we should get some food into you young lady," he said, heading to the kitchen. "You're without three days worth of food."

I nodded and stumbled towards the kitchen, unsteady on my feet due to my physical condition and my emotional condition.

"Bye Caya," Hazel called, heading for the door. "I gotta go home now. Have a good night!"

I nodded again and she disappeared.

...

I stared at the ceiling that night, unable to sleep. After all, I had just gotten much more than I needed. I couldn't help thinking about Jackson of course. Where was he at the moment? Was anything trying to kill him? Was he asleep or awake?

But those questions were pointless. They were just me, worrying about him and wondering, fearing. I was also trying to figure out what he'd meant in his interview. Did he intend to ask for my hand in marriage someday if he got back?

_When_ he got back. _There are no ifs,_ I told myself.

What was love anyway? Jackson said that he loved me. But what did that mean? Did it mean kissing and being together forever and starting a family?

Somehow I felt that this wasn't the correct answer. Those things were results of love, but not the actual thing. Did it mean fighting your way to the loved one's side and never giving up even when things were hopeless?

No, that's just another result of love.

Than what is it?

I tossed and turned for another few hours, contemplating this. Finally, unable to stand it, I grabbed my bible and went out to the main room. I managed to find a candle and light it so I could read. I flipped open to 1 Corinthians 13.

**"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.**

**Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.**

**Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.**

**And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."**

Those were elements of love, but what caused it?

1 John 4:9 then caught my attention as I continued to flip through it, trying to find the answer.

**"We love because he first loved us."**

A reason! Finally. Because God loves us.

Just before I crawled back into bed, I read a last verse that made it so I really couldn't sleep...

John 15:13:** "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."**


	11. Chapter 11: Ruth

Chapter 11: Ruth

The televisions were everywhere. On the streets, in the stores, all the buildings, in the schools, in our homes. It's everywhere.

But what bothered me wasn't that they were there. It was that they were on. Every minute of every day. But it wasn't that either. It was that they all played the same thing- everywhere. They were all set to the frequency that showed the Games. Every. Single. One.

Every year of course this has happened- especially bad during the 74th Games- but this year is the first one that was bothering me. Even had I wanted to, I couldn't get away from what was going on unless I went to the fence.

Did Gale, Katniss' friend who stayed behind, feel like this? Did he feel that there was no way he could get away from it all? He'd had hunting, I know, and I didn't but I remember seeing a lot less of him after the Games started and even less after Katniss and Peeta came back.

Would I be like him? Worried sick about the person you love on the screen, living it miles and miles away? Just to realize the person you thought you knew was so completely different when they got back it was hardly comparable?

No.

Katniss came back for her sister. Jackson said he would come back for me. Not for his sister, not for his parents or friends or family, but me. The silly, little, undeserving girl he'd grown up with.

Why did he love me anyway?

What had I ever done for him? Other than keep him company and be his friend? He'd always protected me, always been there, to cheer me, to show me where God was in every situation.

"Hey, Vick," I called across the road, "do you know where the recordings of the interviews are?"  
"Yeah," he called back. "Why?"

"I'd like to watch them when we get home."

He shrugged. "Sure. I'll show you when we get there, which should be soon." He looked up at the road and away from me as he said this last part.  
We were walking home together after school. I had missed a few days because of my coma, so I had extra work to do when I got home.

"Do you mind explaining why you want to watch it again? Are you going to watch the entire thing?"

"Probably not. I just want to hear what he said again. At the end."

"About you?"

"No, about the jumping bananas he ate," I tell him sarcastically. "Yes, of course."

"Are you in love with him?"

I stopped, and stared at my brother, considering the question. "I... I don't know."

Vick raised his eyebrows at me. "Seriously? You're totally in love with him. I was just wondering what you thought."

"Well what defines being 'in love'?" I wondered aloud.

"What do you mean?" Vick questioned.

"Think about it. People always talk about being 'in love', and how great it is, but what do they even mean? Are they talking about having positive physical contact, how pretty the person they're 'in love' with is? Or are they talking about how much they care about the other person?"

Vick shrugged and opened the door of our home for me. "I don't know. I'm only 12."

"Then why'd you ask me?"

Vick shrugged again and I sighed, pushing past him. "You could try finding a love story in the bible I suppose, but if you do you gotta tell me," Vick suggested.

I nodded, grabbing it and beginning to flip through. Song of Solomon? No good. Esther? Great story, but not about romance.

Ruth. I devoured the book within the hour. Her story was one of the most amazing books I had ever read.

Ruth was a Moabite, which was a nation against Israel at the time. She married an Israelite, who has died at the beginning of the story. She is left with her Israelite mother-in-law, Naomi. There was a famine in Israel, so they had been living in Moab. As soon as the famine was over, Naomi wanted to go home; she didn't belong in Moab. She intended to leave Ruth behind, but Ruth insisted, saying, **"Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."** Ruth 1:16. So they traveled back to Israel and Ruth picked up the leftover grains in a field nearby where they stayed in order to eat. A wealthy man called Boaz owned the field. He happened to be related to Ruth's husband. Boaz learned of her travels and her love for Naomi, and makes sure she can continue to collect food.

Then I stumbled upon chapter three, in which Naomi tells Ruth, **"My daughter, should I not try to find a home for you, where you will be well provided for? Is not Boaz, with whose servant girls you have been, a kinsman of ours? Tonight he will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. Wash and perfume yourself, and put on your best clothes. Then go down to the threshing floor, but don't let him know you are there until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you what to do."** Ruth 3:1b-4.

What on earth is that supposed to mean?

"Dad?" I called, knocking on the door of our parent's bedroom. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course," he responded, opening the door. "What's on your mind?"

I showed him the verse. "Why would Naomi tell her to do that?"

Dad sat down on the bed, rubbing his forehead. "Hm, how should I explain this. You see, this is their way of proposing to each other. When Naomi says she is trying to find a home for Ruth, she doesn't mean a place to stay, she means she wants Ruth to have safety, and protection, which they cannot afford or provide on their own. Does that answer your question?"

I nodded. "Yeah, though I might be back later with more questions."

Dad smiled. "What if I read it to you?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

I listened intently as Dad read the rest of the book, explaining the various complications Ruth and Boaz encountered as they worked to make their marriage happen. At the very end, after they were married, Ruth had a son, Obed, the grandfather of King David.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think defines being 'in love'?"

"Hm, tough question. Let me tell you the story of how your mom and I met..."


	12. Chapter 12: Seek and Find

Chapter 12: Seek and Find

I could tell you the story word-for-word, but with all the interruptions and breaks in the story, I shall tell it the way any narrator would, in third person.

At the age of 17, my father, Thom Bristle wanted nothing more from life than to never have another reaping and to flirt with girls his whole life. He didn't think much about his future, other than which girl he would flirt with. All the pretty girls attracted him, and he attracted all the pretty girls. But neither side ever thought about significant futures together. Thom once wished he could marry a Miss Honey Thisleweed, but she was reaped on her 18th birthday. Thom remembers giving her a jar of honey to take with her, in consideration of her name.

One night, he was walking home from an outing with a girl he thought he loved more than anyone he'd ever met. The girl was silly and light, and they had both gotten drunk. Because of this, Thom was doing something he never would've gotten caught doing otherwise- he was dancing and singing his way home. It happened to be the night of the Easter service at the small broken down church that was even smaller than it was in my time. A girl, came singing and dancing out of the building, right into Thom's path.

She saw Thom and stopped immediately, blushing crimson. She'd let her long red hair fall over her face (though Thom didn't know it's color as it was dark out).

The drunk man thought this was hysterical. "Come, dance with me girl," he said, his breath smelling of alcohol. The girl tried to pass him, but he was big and blocked her way. "Come on, girly, I'm not that bad!"

She stopped trying to pass him and looked him square in the eyes. "Maybe sometime when you're sober. Let me pass or you'll never have that chance."

Bewildered, Thom did let her pass. Only too late did he try to ask the question, "What's your name?"

She didn't answer, now only a dot in the distance. Over the next few days, Thom couldn't get this mysterious girl out of his head. She was beautiful, and he wanted her, even more so than the other girls because of the challenge she posed.

Finally, they bumped into each other again in the grocery store, and this time, Thom was sober, though not much better than he had been when he was drunk. She saw him first, a split-second before he noticed her.

"Good afternoon miss," he said courteously, bowing.

She looked him up and down. "Sober this time?"

"Yes miss," he answered, trying to keep his grin down.

She nodded. "Good."

They just stood there, looking at each other, until Thom finally mustered the courage to say, "Dance with me wednesday?"

She nodded. "Where?"

Thom hadn't thought of this. "Um, I don't know." He shifted uncomfortably.

"My church has a dance on tuesday. Are you free then?"

He nodded eagerly. "Where's your church?"

She laughed. Thom thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "You were right outside it the first time we met."

"Oh, o-okay," Thom stammered. "Can I meet you here?"

She laughed again and nodded. "Of course." She turned to go.

"Wait! What's your name?"

"My name is Portia. Your's?"

"I'm Thom."

"Nice to meet you Thom."

"And you Portia."

...

So that tuesday, Portia and Thom met at the grocery and walked together to Portia's church where they danced and danced. Because it was a church gathering, there was no wine, so Thom didn't get drunk and enjoyed it to the fullest. They began going together to the dances every tuesday, for a year and a half. They learned quite a bit about each other.

Thom found out that Portia's family was incredibly poor, and lived in the Seam, which he had heard of but never been to. His village was close and the church was on a road in between them. There wasn't a grocery yet in the Seam, so Portia walked the road often. She had a total of 5 brothers and sisters, but only one was left by the time she met Thom. One had died in the Hunger Games and the other three had all died of disease. Her remaining brother was so much older than her that she hadn't seen him since she was 9 years old. Her life had been one of tragedy.

Thom, on the other hand had lived a happy life, other than having to watch the Games every year. He was a troublemaker and flirted with the girls often throughout his life. This stopped, however, once he had met Portia.

They formed a strong bond together, and not through flirting. Portia refused to make a fool out of herself that way, as she put it. They grew a firm friendship. Finally though, Thom decided to propose. He'd finally found the girl of his dreams.

But the answer he received shocked him. Pained, Portia had told him no. "You're not a christian Thom. I must marry someone who shares my values and my LORD."

Angry, Thom took back the incredibly expensive ring and stormed off.

"Wait! Thom!" Portia cried, running to catch up. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she looked him in the eyes, the way she had when she had commanded him to get out of her way. "I love you. I want to marry you, if only I could. But I will not until you become a child of God, genuinely, not just to have my hand."

"Forget your god! If you love me, why won't you marry me?!"

"Because He's more important to me Thom. I must obey His direction."

The next sunday, Thom started going to Portia's church. She refused to interact with him during service. "I want you to learn things, not be focused on me."

This was altogether confusing to Thom. He had never met a girl who wouldn't be with him because of any loyalty.

But church seemed pointless. Even when he payed attention, Thom could never understand what was so great about Portia's god. It began to bug him and he asked her.

"Because He loves all the people of the world. He cared enough about us to send His only son to die. Think about it Thom. What if you had to give up your child, or anyone that you love imagine to the Games, willingly, in order to receive genuine love? He saved us from ourselves."

Thom didn't understand the first time, but soon, he asked just the right questions. One night, on his 19th birthday, he asked Christ to live in his heart. The next day, Portia proposed, but instead of a ring, she gave him a bible.

"Yes Portia. There's no one else who is right for me."

"Here's my favorite verse for you. It's in Jeremiah 29:13." She opened the book to the page where it was and traced it with her finger as she read,** "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."**


	13. Chapter 13: Walking with Guilt, Froze

**AN: The "poem" Hazel brings is lyrics from the song "Times" by Tenth Avenue North. I have no claim to them!**

Chapter 13: Walking with Guilt, Frozen with Pain

"So that's how we met," Dad sighed. "I was a changed man after I found Jesus. I gave up drinking and tobacco. We moved into the Seam in this house together. I built it." He laughed. "I guess that's why it's so shabby."

I could hear the bitterness and guilt in his voice. I didn't understand why it was there. "It's not shabby!" I protest. "It's our home! It's the place I can always feel safe in- well, unless we're watching the Games, but still. Just because it's shabby doesn't mean it's a shabby place."

"That's extremely contradictory," Dad laughs.

"No. It's a paradox."

"Okay, whatever you say." He stands up, weariness clothing his face as he rises.

"Dad, sit down," I said as authoritatively as I could.

He obeyed, to my astoundment. I had no idea he would actually listen to me.

"Why do you feel guilty?"

Dad looked at me quite strangely. Then he sighed and replied, "Because, I was such an awful person before. I can't even compensate for all the damage I caused. I hate it." He wasn't looking at me anymore, but staring at his shoes, looking like he wanted to kill his old self.

"Dad, Jesus compensated for it," I said. "You don't have to feel guilty anymore. As Jackson says, everything happens for a reason. God's gonna make it right, if He hasn't already."

He looked up at me, smiling now. "When did I get such a wise daughter?"

I blushed. "Umm, I don't know."

Vick knocked on the door. "Caya, Hazel is here. She says it's urgent."

I nod. "Bye Dad."

"Bye Sweetheart," Dad said affectionately.

When I get to the door, Hazel looked extremely worried. "It's Kate. She's having a meltdown. Her parents can't get her to eat anything, or sleep or even move."

"Vick, tell Dad I'm going to the Hawkthornes'." He nodded and ran off. I turn back to Hazel, stepping out of the house. "Details. Did you figure out what the source is?"

"Well we assume it has to do with Jackson but the last time I checked, he was hunting and fine. She won't tell us anything. She's not even crying she's just staring off into space."

"What have you tried?"

"The TV on and off, her mom's sweet bread, Jackson's things, blankets, a fire, talking to her, about Jackson and things that don't matter. I don't know what to do!"

I reached out and knocked on the door, for we'd arrived. Mrs. Hawkthorne opened the door, looking more stressed and tired than I'd seen her in a long time. "Come in, come in," she said, opening the door wide.

"I have an idea to try. Will you help Mrs. Hawkthorne for a bit?" I whispered into Hazel's ear.

She nodded, and went to ask about what she could help with. I snuck into the room Kate and Jackson had always shared. Kate was sitting on the bed, staring at the window. At it, not through it.

"Hi Kate," I said, sitting down next to her. She doesn't move. Just keeps staring. I can't help wondering if this was how I seemed, though my eyes were closed, during my coma not so long ago. "Kate, can we go on a walk together? I want to show you something."  
Still no response.

Then I decided to change my tactic. "Kate, you're going on a walk with me. Right now." I tugged on her arm.

To my surprise, she responded. Her expression remained blank, empty. But she followed me out of the room, past an astonished mother and friend and outside. Together, we headed towards the fence.

I didn't try to talk to her. She was clearly far away in her own little universe.

When we arrived at the fence, she sighed, and collapsed in front of it. "Caya," she breathed quietly.

"Yes?" I asked, crouching down next to her.

"Why did God take him away?"

"I don't know. Only He does."

Tears quietly trickled down her face. "He seems so far away."

"Who?"

"Both of them."

"Yeah, I know. But guess what?"

"What?"

"God's right here. He's watching over us. And he's watching over Jackson too. And no matter what happens, he still loves us and he still sent Jesus to die for us."

"What is love?"

"**'Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails,'**" I quote quietly. "God is love."

"May I join you? I have something to add," Hazel said from behind us, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

We nodded and she plopped down next to us. "I found this in Jackson's bible."

She held out a old piece of paper, yellowed, and almost beyond reading.

"Why were you looking in Jackon's bible?" I asked, honestly wondering.

"I was curious because I saw this sticking out of it. Here, let me read it. I think it's God talking to us. 'My love is over. It's underneath. It's inside. It's in between. The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel. The times that you question, "Is this for real?" The times you're broken. The times that you mend. The times that you hate Me, and the times that you bend. Well, My love is over, it's underneath. It's inside, it's in between. These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks. The times that you feel like you're falling from grace. The times you're hurting. The times that you heal. The times you go hungry, and are tempted to steal. The times of confusion, in chaos and pain. I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame. I'm there through your heartache. I'm there in the storm. My love I will keep you, by My pow'r alone. I don't care where you fall, where you have been. I'll never forsake you, My love never ends. It never ends.' It's a poem or a song possibly, probably from before the war and stuff."

Kate was crying again, her lips pressed together, and her body shaking all over. She sat with her arms around her knees and her head bent down to touch them. I look at Hazel and put a finger to my lips as I move to hold Kate.

She leaned into me and I slowly, gently rubbed her arm. Hazel sat there awkwardly until I motioned her over and she holds me and her from behind.

After what seems like hours, Kate sat up and rubbed her nose. "Can I keep it?" she requested.

Hazel nodded. "It was already yours."

Kate shakily took at and clutched it in her hand tightly, but not enough for it to rip. "I'm going home now. I promise I'll eat and stuff but I'd rather go alone."

There's nothing either of us can say to that. We watch her go off into the distance and then slowly make our own journeys home.


	14. Chapter 14: He is who He is

Chapter 14: He is Who He Is

Fire. Ever since Katniss and Peeta's games, the Capital has found it incredibly entertaining to assault District 12 with fire. I should've known.

Everything had been fine until two days after Kate's breakdown. A bit of action with the other tributes. Jackson had trouble with food for a few days, but he managed to catch a rabbit somewhere along the line. Then the capital became cruel as a result of boredom.

We had just gotten home from school and turned the TV on. I was dying to know how Jackson was doing. We get updates in school but I hadn't seen one since lunch.

To my surprise, he was the first thing we saw on the screen. Sleeping in a tree Katniss style. He was so peaceful it was almost eerie. Then we noticed a flicker in the corner of the screen. Then we noticed the smoke, rising up to where Jackson was sleeping, but not quite reaching his nose to alert him.

Vick scootched closer and took my hand, as much to comfort himself as to comfort me. I squeezed, and he squeezed back as we watched the screen tensely for what would happen next.

I could hardly think. All I knew was that Jackson was about to get hurt. There was a huge POP as the flames consumed a damp branch somewhere the cameras weren't showing. Jackson's eyes flew open and he was down from the tree in 30 seconds flat. He ran faster than I had ever seen him run before. Animals rushed past all around, knowing where to go from pure instinct.

Desperately Jackson tried to follow, but they were gone only seconds later. After a few feet, Jackson stared up in confusion and the cameras switched to one at bird's eye view.

The fire was formed in a big C, with only a small opening for Jackson to escape from. Suddenly, we were switched to a scene we must've missed in school of the Careers.

They had gone out in pairs and one group of three. There was nine of them, more than usual. Each group had placed fuel around in the C. An argument broke out and the boy from District Nine snuck out and shot the boy from District 4. Before anything else could happen, he was captured and tied to a tree in the middle of the fire they were creating.

Then they had lit it and fled. I was dying for them to come back to Jackson. And they did.

The camera zoomed in on Jackson's face as he passed it. The look on his face was not one of panic. It was of determination and trust. Trust that God would take care of him, even in this horrible situation in which he could die in an awful way any second.

I hadn't seen that look on his face since we were 9, when trust still came easy even in a world so awful and full of pain there was no avoiding it. Jackson has always been faithful to God, but I know that he's struggled with trusting God all of our teenage years. And now, now his face had a look of a nine-year-old who scarcely understood what death meant. Yet he knew that now more than ever.

This was put to test when the flaming pine cones started blazing towards him. As the capitol did not start this fire, there was none of the high-tec fireballs like the ones fired at Katniss. But these flying pinecones were also harmful. Clearly, they were set by the Careers.

Jackson managed to dodge quite a few. Then one went screeching towards his left shoulder. He stumbled and started slamming his hand into it to stop the flames.

Then two more came streaming towards him. Jackson abandoned the idea of putting out the fire on him; there was no time for such a thing. He bolted blindly out of the C and just kept running, going over the crest of one hill and down into a valley.

He collapsed to the ground, trying to stop the flames, biting his lip so hard it was nearly blue to keep from screaming again. Even now, trying to be strong.

I wanted to turn it off. I didn't want to see him die. But I was frozen in place, watching in horror against my own will. Vick seemed to be similarly stuck.

Jackson looked as though he's about to pass out. He breathed slowly: in out, in out.

Then the last thing anyone expects came running onto the scene. Two boys about two years older than Vick ran towards him. They talked a moment, out of range of the cameras' speakers and then helped Jackson to his feet. They limp out of the scene and towards the creek I had noticed at the beginning.

Flickerman commentated excitedly, "An act of of... what would you call it Claudius?"

"I don't know. Mercy?"

"Maybe, but Willow and Castor weren't the ones harming Jackson," Flickerman mused.

"Love," I whispered, tears running down my face.

Vick looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back through my tears.

The screen showed a picture of each of the boys. Jackson, of course, and the other two, this Willow and Castor. Castor Erwin was from district 10 and was 14. Willow Endergreen was also 14 and from district 11. Their training scores that I must have missed in my coma were both 9s. Then they switched back and show what was actually happening.

Willow and Castor managed to get Jackson's body to the river. He passed out and was unable to help them move him. They took off Jackson's shirt to examine his shoulders and back, which took the brunt of the attacks.

Both boys looked horrified. Jackson had second-degree burns; with ugly red blisters all over the spots where he'd been hit.

"We had a minor fire on our ranch last year," Castor told Willow. "We need to get water on those. That's all we can do for him unless we get help."

The proceeded to do just that, heaving Jackson into the water. When they splashed his face, he woke up and helps them keep him afloat.

After they got Jackson into the water, Castor waved Willow off and he wandered into the woods. They zoom in on Castor's face and I finally got a good view of him. He had light brown hair and skin, but his eyes were a surprising blue. They were very focused on the task. He'd clearly dealt with this kind of injury before.

Willow cames back moments later with a handful of leaves. His hair was curly and his skin and hair were a chocolate color. His eyes were a deep hazel color. He was nearly running back to Castor and Jackson. He then mashed the leaves with some water in a water bottle and gave it to Castor. He seems to be giving pointers on putting the salve on, but the cameras can't pick up the noise because the wind carries it away.

Finally, the boys seem to be finished and Castor laid down for the night and Willow takes watch.

Vick turns off the TV. "That was cool," he murmured.

I nodded, still staring at the dark screen.

"We should probably get dinner ready," Vick suggested.

I nodded again, still staring. He waved his hand in front of my face. I finally relented to looking at him.

"You okay?"

I nodded.

"Alright, well I'll see you in the kitchen when you can function."

I nodded again. He disappeared and I took up my bible, which had been sitting on a broken half-table next to our worn out couch. I opened to Exodus 3:1-14, **"Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the desert and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, "I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up."**

**When the Lord saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush,"Moses! Moses!"**

**And Moses said, "Here I am."**

**"Do not come any closer," God said. "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground." Then he said, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.**

**The Lord said, "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey—the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt."**

**But Moses said to God, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?"**

**And God said, "I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain."**

**Moses said to God, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"**

**God said to Moses, "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I am has sent me to you.'"**"

I sat back, thinking about this strange tale. God spoke through a burning bush in order to get Moses' attention, and then He told him how He wanted to save Moses' people, and bring them to a land of plenty.

Somehow, I knew that Jackson was the bush. He may have been burned physically, but his spirit would never be. And God sent people to help him. He is Who He is. And God never breaks his promises.


	15. Chapter 15: Trust Me

**AN: Jesus Calms the Storm is found in Matthew 8:23-27.**

**Also, as of 5/26/13 I updated every previous chapter. There are a few changes that are interesting, and if you have time I suggest going back and reading them.**

**Thanks!**

Chapter Fifteen: Trust Me

Every day, it was closer to the end. I sat tensely in class, waiting for the bell to ring, for the chance to break free and go home.

The seconds seemed to take hours. Jackson could be dead by now. Somehow, as each day passed, it got more and more agonizing to be away from the updates. Without them my imagination ran wild, with all the things that could be happening. How many tributes were dead? Who were they? How did they die?

_Shut up!_ I thought to myself, irritated.

But what if Jackson is dead?

_**"Trust me."**_

There it was again. For what seemed like the five-hundredth time, the message repeated itself. God was reminding me, yet again, that He was in control.

Is in control. Will be forever.

_But why is it so hard to trust? _I wondered. I truly wanted God to just take it off my mind, but I couldn't let it go.

Finally, the bell rung, and I practically ran down the halls of our "school" to get home. I flew down our road, getting more than a few strange looks, and arrived, panting, at the front door.

The TV was already on when I walked in. Vick was sitting on the couch in front of it. He got home a bit earlier than I did. Though all the classes are in one building, they are organized by elementary, middle, and high school. Each section has different hours. High school starts the latest, and therefore ends the latest. Vick was in middle school and got home about an hour before me.

"How is he?" I asked. I tossed my school bag onto my bed and headed in to join him.

"Well, his alliance is doing well," Vick replied. After the fire, Willow, Castor and Jackson had agreed to stick together until the end of the Games. The two younger boys had taken care of Jackson until he was healthy enough to move on his own. His wounds were still weak points, but they weren't hindering him nearly as much.

"That's good news," I said. "Anything else?"

"Watch," was all Vick said in response.

I switched my attention to the screen. A girl, who looked to be about fourteen, was hurrying down the side of a mountain. She had clearly been startled by something. The camera zoomed out, revealing the two Careers scrambling after her, undoubtedly with murderous intention.

Then the camera switched to a different angle, and I gasped. Just yards away from the girl were a few boulders that formed ledges off the mountain; a cliff. She was heading straight for them.

She stopped just in time to save herself from flying over the edge. She looked back; a mistake. The Careers were much closer now, grinning for a guaranteed victory.

Instinctively, the girl backed up a step and fell from the ledge. Just before she hit the ground, though, the screen went blank.

This wasn't the first time the power has gone out. District Twelve has a problem with constant electricity. But I have no recollection of this ever happening during the Hunger Games.

Vick and I turned to each other at the same time. Shocked, we stayed in that position for several moments.

I looked away first. "Dad?" I called towards our parents' bedroom.

Dad poked his head out a moment later. "Yes?"

"The power must have gone out or something, because the TV just shut off," Vick told him.

Dad raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "During the Games?"

We nodded and Dad came over to look more closely. After a moment, he was in agreement. "That's the power, all right."

"But why?" I questioned, confused.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Dad went to answer it. "Hello?"

Two Peacekeepers stood outside. "We've come to inform you that Hunger Games required viewing has been postponed in District 12 due to the power outage, and will stay that way until it is fixed," one, the taller of the two, said.

"Do you know why it's out? Or how long it will take to fix?" Dad asked.

The shorter one answered this time. "We do not know why but we were told that it shouldn't take more than twelve hours to be fixed."

Dad nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you."

The Peacekeepers returned the nod and walked away, on to the next house.

"Well," Vick said, "I guess we're not watching any more of that. Do you want to do something, or would you rather be alone?"

"I think I'll go over to Hazel's," I tell him, heading for the door.

On the walk over, I wonder what had happened to the power. The sky looked cloudy. Could it have been a storm? Or did someone cut the wire for our electricity? I decided that it was probably the storm. At Hazel's, we briefly discussed the matter. Hazel agreed with me.

"I'm glad it's Friday," I told her. "Otherwise I would probably have to wait for school to be out in order to see anything!"

"Well, the best thing we can do is pray and trust God that it will be okay," Hazel reminded me.

"Yeah," I agreed. If only it were that easy.

...

That night I had trouble sleeping. I couldn't stop imagining all the horrible ways Jackson could get hurt and die. After several hours of this, I finally decided to read my Bible. I picked it up and went into the main room. I searched through the trunk under the window for a candle, and lit it so I could see the pages. I used my favorite strategy of flipping to a random page, and ended up in 1 John, chapter four.

Whoever had owned my Bible, a long time ago, had liked to mark specific verses. Verse 18 had been underlined, and my eyes immediately flicked to the words: **"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."**

I pondered this a moment. At that moment, I was very fearful. For all I knew, Jackson was dead.

The message was clear: trusting God is the key. The key to a relationship with Him and the key to not being afraid.

I remembered the story of Jesus calming the storm. He and His followers were traveling across a huge lake. When they were far away from the shore, a huge storm broke out. Jesus was asleep. His followers were so afraid that they woke Him saying, **"LORD, save us! We are going to drown!"**

And Jesus said, **"You of little faith, why are you so afraid?'**

_Why am _I_ so afraid?_

I have the most powerful God on my side! And not only is He far more powerful than anything they could ever do to me or my friends, but He loves me! He loves Jackson! And He has a plan that is perfect, completely perfect, for every single person on the face of the earth, and for all the people that ever existed and will exist.

I have no reason to be afraid.

After Jesus rebuked His followers, He calmed the storm and all was peaceful again. Which is exactly what He's done in my heart.

...

I am gazing into Jackson's face. He is so peaceful, his breathing rhythmical. Elizabeth sits on the chair on the other side of his hospital bed. I don't know how I've gotten here.

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask.

Elizabeth shrugs. "The doctors don't know yet. They said it could be a lot worse."

I remember what happened. When I was trapped in that dungeon, and how Jackson got me out. Then we ran into Elizabeth after monsters chased us with arrows. And that huge monster threw Jackson hard against the wall.

_Will he be okay?_

Jackson's eyes flit open.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

He smiles. "Much, much better." He pauses a moment before he asks, "Caya?"

"Yes?"

"I need you to do something."

"What?"

"Trust God. I know it's hard, but it's a process. You don't have to be perfect at it. He'll teach you. Whatever happens to me is part of His plan. He will never leave you."

"Jackson, you're not-"

"Promise me."

"Okay. I promise."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And then he is gone.


End file.
